Love and Loss
by Krazie4Christ
Summary: CH5! This storyline keeps changing in my mind. It's a huge romance with tradegy mixed in. It's getting better with each chapter, or so I hope. Everyone knows what they want, but HOW will they get it? Who will mess everything up?
1. Prologue: Romantic Ties

Prologue: Romantic Ties

_A note from the author: I KNOW I shouldn't be working on this story right now, but I REALLY want to! I need a break. Plus, it's just a prologue! There's no turning back now! I've already written the author's note so HUH!_

_Heads up! I'm gonna be switching P.o.V.s with every chapter. Everybody will more than likely be viewed from more than once. Possibly three or four times depending on how long the story gets. This is meant to be sort of an epic tale, but I have NO idea how well it will turn out._

_I know you're like, screaming at me to get on with the story, but I think you should know that since this is only the PROLOGUE, I will not be doing using one of the main characters' point of views in this chapter. Instead, it will be a mother commentating on what she sees happening, so you kinda get a feel for the story, y'know. . .get a good strong grip so we can start nice and hard on Chapter 1. Here we go! (I'm really nervous)_

**Lillia's Point of View**

_Aaahh..._

The air is warm. This is the season in which I am the healthiest. The doctors tell me that warm weather is always better; that's why they all want me to move to Florida.

But I won't do that. Not while my children still live here. Mineral Town is all we've ever known.

Then again. . .Popuri is learning many new things about the world, and she's got Kai Bailar to thank for that. Every summer, that boy comes here to man his quaint little seafood restaurant on the beach. Every summer, Popuri falls in love with him all over again.

But this summer is especially different from the past six ones he has spent here in Mineral Town. This summer, Popuri spends up to seven hours a day with him, helping out at the Beach House, roaming the mountainous area near the carpenter's hut, wading in the ocean waves... Yesterday I caught her snuggling against him as they sat on the end of the dock at the beach, looking out on a splendid summer sunset.

Rick and I fear it won't be long...until her heart is broken.

Oh, that Rick. He technically has no room at all to talk. He is head over heels for Sasha's daughter, Karen. I always wish his father was here so he could intervene. That Karen would never be happy with my son. She's got too free a spirit, too adventurous a heart. Rick is a down-home kind of boy. He's never left this town and never will.

I think that's why he is so intimidated by Kai Bailar. Kai travels the globe when he isn't here. He's been to Mexico, Spain, Jamaica, America, South Africa, Mongolia, Northern Russia, Iceland! He makes a living by selling his handmade musical instruments wherever he goes. It's something he invented...What is it called? Oh, yes...the blowafluto. The BLOWAFLUTO! It's like a new, "improved" version of the flute. He's made a good sum of money from them, but who knows how long it will last?

Popuri does not live like that either. Me, her, and Rick...we are all the same.

However, my husband is not, and that is why Popuri thinks she has a future with Kai. See? My husband and I, we love each other. More than anything else in the world. So Popuri believes she and Kai can be what my husband and I are. But there are things she doesn't know! She doesn't know how many nights I lie in bed and sob into my pillow because my Paulie isn't here to help me raise the two of them, to comfort me in my sickness, to _love_ me like everyone else's husband does them. She doesn't know what it feels like to wake up each morning wondering..._where is my husband!_

And that's why couples like Popuri and Kai or Karen and Rick just aren't meant to be.

Besides, it seems to me that Karen is falling fast for this new farmboy, Jack Taylor Duritz. He hasn't been here long, only for a season and a half. I only know his full name because it was in Farmer Redd's will three years ago. He left his farm to that young boy, an old, old friend, and only God knows the reasoning behind that decision. Jack is from America; he hails from some city called Amarillo. In Texas I believe. He's supposed to know his business about farming, but even after a season and a half of working hard, he's still got his work cut right out for him. He's definitely got a job to do.

And though it seems this Jack has been developing feelings for Karen also, I've noticed his eyes on my own daughter recently. Just this afternoon as a matter of fact. He dropped by the Poultry Farm for some chicken feed and just couldn't take his eyes off her.

She _is_ very pretty, my daughter. She inherited my unusual pink curls and high cheekbones, but I can't take credit for those diamond blue eyes. Those were Paul's doing. Rick got them, too, along with Paul's infamous thick blond locks.

My, _my_, my children are gorgeous.

Not that Karen and Kai are not beautiful also. Karen is indeed a work of art. She looks _exactly_ as her mother did at this age (which is eighteen, by the way) except she's got these long blond side bangs which are supposedly inherited from her grandmother. Her eyes shine like the emeralds in the earrings Paul gave me for our fourth anniversary. . .That was nineteen years ago. My goodness, I keep forgetting how old I am.

And Kai...Kai is undeniably, devilishly good-looking. He isn't very tall, but he's certainly got the dark and handsome part down. I've only looked into his eyes twice, but I will never, ever forget them. Deep, dark brown portals of eyes they are. As rich and sweet as chocolate on Valentine's Day. A touchable face, a truly enticingly toned figure. . .The boy is a masterpiece in God's art gallery.

I can sort of sense my feelings about him changing. Though Rick is becoming more and more protective of Popuri, I am beginning to think that...Kai isn't so bad. I still would not fully _support_ a decision to further their relationship, but I wouldn't exactly put up a fight either.

I don't know. Sometimes I think everything would just be better, easier, less stressful, if I just kept my nose out of everybody's business.

But that wouldn't be any fun, now would it?

_A/N: YYYYYEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!! That -- was -- so -- FUN! I've never written anything funner. Tell me what you think? Yes, no, maybe so? PLEASE, tell me!_


	2. Chapter One: Morning Jog

Chapter One: Morning Jog

_A/N: Just so you know, I have every right to be working on this, 'cause I just updated AMPR with a very long, satisfying chapter. I have EARNED the right! Thanks for y'all's reviews! Really: THANKS._

Jack's Point of View

Finally, my field is clear! Clear of all rocks, boulders, stumps, logs, unproductive trees, and those ever-so-persistent weeds. I finished it yesterday evening, and it feels so good to step outside on a beautiful summer morning and see a _clear_ field. That is, clear except for the corn and tomato gardens, which have been blooming rapidly for the past two weeks. They're beautiful, I tell ya. Just beautiful.

It's unfortunate, though, that the only two beings I have to share it with are my faithful dog Sparky and my beloved pony Rhoda. The three of us live alone here on Old Man Redd's farm now. It's where we've been living for the past season and a half.

Actually, I've forgotten about our two new members of the family. Henrietta and Conchetta are my new hens. They live out in the chicken coop next to the big apple tree. They seem to be good chickens. I've gotten sixteen eggs from each of them so far.

Man, what a beautiful sunrise. In the east, I can see a remarkable orange light peeking over the edge of the ocean. It won't be two hours before it's totally emerged into the baby blue, cloudless summer sky, beating Mineral Town with minute after minute of near-unbearable heat. Another reason I'm so happy about my clear field.

I bend down quickly to secure the knots in my shoelaces, preparing myself for my daily jog around town. The "streets" of Mineral Town are positively ideal for morning joggers like me. The turf is even, the roads are clean, and the people are friendly.

Standing erect, I adjust my worn-out old ball cap, check my watch (5:24 AM), and set out. I jog at a fairly quick pace. I always make sure to keep my strides even and lengthy as possible, adequately pumping my arms and checking my watch each time I round a corner.

I look down, past the black basketball shorts swishing around my knees, at the ground, around my feet. I guess Sparky has decided not to accompany me today. Some days he comes, some days he doesn't. Some days, he stops at Barley's place and plays with their puppy Hannah for a while. But he's always by my side when I get home.

As I pass the Poultry Farm, I think about the young girl who lives there. She's very cute, with long, curly pink hair and pretty blue eyes. Her name is Popuri Bennet, so whenever I think of her, I think of the book, _Pride and Prejudice_. She seems to be very nice. I talked to her quite a few times in spring, but haven't seen much of her this summer. Her mother, Lillia, says it's because of the beach guy who comes here every year. His name's Kai Something-Or-Other. I've been to his restaurant, and it ain't half bad. He seems like a pretty weird guy. He invented a musical instrument and sells it for a living. If I was Popuri Bennet, I'd be much more interesting in me.

I've already passed the blacksmith, who is supposed to be working on my watering can right now. He said it'd be ready today, so I need to pick it up before I get home this morning.

When I reach the Animal Farm, where the old man Barley lives, his little granddaughter May begins to run after me asking, "Jack, Jack, where is Sparky-dog?"

What in the world is this little girl doing up so dern early? I laugh heartily and tell her, "He's not with me today. I'll bring him by for you later, okay?"

"Okay," she answers with a grin that's missing several teeth. Baby teeth, of course.

Here's the second corner. My watch reads 5:35 AM as I enter the town square, devoid of all people and activity, other than me, jogging briskly through. I'm outta there in two minutes; it's a very sizable area. As I round another corner, it's 5:37.

The next five minutes is just scenery. There's a large, fenced off flower garden on the right, and to the left is just grass and trees upon a short curb. This is where I always pass Basil the botanist and his wife Anna taking their morning walk. They are always showing some sign of affection like holding hands or something, and today their arms are linked.

"Mornin', Jack," Basil says to me.

"Good morning," I answer back. Anna just nods with a meek smile.

They have a daughter named Mary who is only one year younger than me. I've seen her before in the mountains or when I go to the library, which is where she works. She has long, long, dark hair and hazel eyes that seem to know everything. She seems nice, but I wouldn't call her attractive.

Doug Green is walking out the door when I pass his home and workplace, the Flowerbud Inn. He waves at me with a smile, both of which I return, and says, "Good morning there, Jack! How's it going?"

"Good," I reply, my strides not faltering. "You?"

I have to look over my shoulder now to see him. "Good. Be sure and come by later!" he calls. "Today at lunch we've got sandwiches half price!"

My stomach growls hungrily at the mention of food. "I'll do that!" I holler over my shoulder.

There's the winery. I've been there once because Sasha at the Supermarket told me I could get free wine with first purchase. Boy, did that turn out to be dumb. I ended up walking out of there empty-handed 'cause the jerk who owned the place refused to let his wife give me a free bottle unless I bought 200G's worth of the stuff. Like I was gonna spend 200G for a free bottle of wine. Besides, Sasha gave me a sample, and it wasn't anything to brag about.

Another corner. I turn right. It's 5:48.

It takes less than a minute to round the next corner, so I don't bother checking my watch. I pass Basil's place, then the tiny library. Next is Mayor Thomas's house. He has got to be the funniest looking man I have ever seen. He's about five feet tall with a handlebar mustache and a bright red top hat. He's a rotund man with a smile as wide as his round little head. I love 'im.

I pass the doctor's office, too, before I reach the Supermarket. That's where Sasha, her husband Jeff, and their eighteen-year-old daughter Karen live.

Now, Karen. . ._Man_, is she sweet on the eyes. She's tall and slender, with long chocolate milk-colored hair and blond bangs. I know her better than I know any of the other girls, which is still not all that well. The word is that she can dance like no other and has the voice of an angel but can't cook worth beans. Jeff says she can't even cook beans. But _man_, is she sweet on the eyes...

I pass the chuch before rounding the next corner. I've been going there every Sunday morning, and it seems to be a very nice church. The pastor, name of Carter, is really a great guy. He knows his stuff, and I can tell he's really in touch with the Lord. It's nice to live in a Christian community.

It's 6:00 sharp now.

I now have to jog down a path I've already traveled, past the town square again. I would turn and go the other way, you know, past the Inn and the winery an all, but I need to stop by the smitty's and pick up my watering can.

I don't reach the next corner until 6:11 AM, where I strangely meet up with Sparky. He normally doesn't ever leave the farm unless he's with me, so I'm betting May went over there to get him. "Hey, doggie," I say to him. "Have you been playing with May?"

The dog hardly even looks up at me, just falls into step by my side. Goob. He looks like he's just some mutt, but he's actually a scrawny little wire-haired Jack Russell Terrier. I found him hanging around alone by the docks back in the city. He looked like he needed some food and a nice bath, so I picked him up and took him with me to Redd's farm. I have no idea how old Sparky is. Zach the produce shipper, who lives in the beach house, says he used to have a dog like him and that Sparky won't get much bigger than he already is, meaning that he's at least nine months old. He looks to me like he's about two _years_ old, but Zach says you never can tell with Jack Russells.

I finally reach the blacksmith and twist the knob to open the door. Saibara, the crazed-looking old man who owns this tiny shop, is sitting behind the counter looking half asleep. But I guess he's not asleep because he gruffly says, "Jack! I have the watering can!"

"Good morning, sir," I say. I guess I call him sir because I'm afraid of him. He's a scary-looking man.

Saibara gives me an odd look and fetches the now-gold watering can from underneath the countertop. "It's a good tool," he says, his voice of the same tone and volume the whole way through the sentence. "Saves time."

"Thanks very much, sir." I take it from him and smile at it. It looks pretty good. "See you later."

The man says nothing as I leave the shop. His grandson, Gray, is normally there working, but I didn't see him this morning.

I start to just walk home with Sparky nipping affectionately at my heels until a feminine voice causes me to stop. "Jack!" it cries. "Hey!"

I look up and to my left to see Popuri Bennet on the other side of the Poultry Farm fence. It looks like she's just exited her house. "Hey," I say in greeting. "You always up this early?" I approach the waist-high fence until I am leaning on it with both hands.

She rolls her sky blue eyes a little and replies, "Yeah. Mama has this untested theory that chickens are easier to handle in the mornings. But it's not a terrible thing to wake up early. Gives you more time in the day."

I nod and smile. She sure is cute. Even this early in the morning, her face is radiant with happiness and cheer. There's laughter in her eyes. Despite her simple wardrobe, a pair of denim shorts and a brand name tee, she still is beautiful. "Do you mind me asking how old you are?" I say, a little hesitantly.

She giggles a little and answers, "Sixteen," with pride.

_Sixteen!_ Dang, I didn't know sixteen-year-olds were ever so mature, and not just bodily speaking. "Wow," I say before thinking. Great, now she thinks I'm some perv ogling over a teenage girl... "I don't mean to be - "

"Don't worry about it, Jack," she says, her voice forgiving and at the same time charming. "I grew up faster than most girls my age 'cause I'm surrounded by girls who are at least two years older than me. I understand what you meant." Popuri's smile is that of an angel's.

"Well, you seem pretty smart for a sixteen-year-old," I say. "Are you still in school?"

"Nope," she answers, again with modest pride. "My mama homeschooled me from the day I was born! I finished school last year and I've got bonafied high school diploma hangin' up on my bedroom wall!" She laughs musically.

"That's amazing," I tell her, genuinely impressed. "I only graduated three years ago."

"So you're what, twenty. . .one?"

"That is correct," I reply.

"No college?"

"Just junior college. Only two years of it. God just told me I should be here."

"You're a Christian?" I can't identify whether she is enthused or disgusted.

But I answer with confidence anyway. "That's right."

"That's awesome!" she squeals. "Oh, that's right! I've been seein' you at church. I forgot!"

"It's all good." I absently check my watch. 6:21 AM. Oops! "Well, I'd better get home and take care o' my own chickens! Nice talkin' to you, Popuri."

"You, too, Jack," she answers with charm. "I'll be seeing you."

"Later!"

_A/N: Well, I had a **jolly** good time writing that. Still introducing things. Sorry if it was a bore. I had a good time. Review and let me know if you did or didn't, too!_


	3. Chapter Two: Dreams

Chapter Two: Dreams

_A/N: Again, I can update this fic ALL I WANT as long as I update AMPR beforehand, which I did! I got you a good read for A Million Pink Roses!_

_I'm aiming to make this chapter maybe a little longer than the last. So in order to do this, I'm gonna do more than one P.o.V. Is that alright? If it isn't, let me know, and I'll change it back to one. If you prefer short chapters, just say the word, okay?_

_Guys, when you read this chapter. . .read it slow. I find it has a lot more meaning that way. Whether you read it aloud or simply to yourself, I think you'll find it much more enjoyable to take your time in doing so. :)_

**Kai's Point of View**

With nothing but a beach towel wrapped around me and a bar of soap in my hand, I close the front door to my restaurant and summer home to face another beautiful summer sunrise in Mineral Town. Man, oh, man, I think to myself. I've never seen two of these alike down here.

Squeezing the sand between my bare toes, inhaling the fresh salt-sprinkled air, I walk across the beach, toward the waves that gently slobber on the shore. After carefully tossing my towel onto the empty dock, I splash into the awakeningly cool ocean water with nothing on but my trademark purple bandana, which is itself thrown onto the dock when I realize I'm still wearing it.

I look out at the near-motionless sea and grin to myself upon seeing that I seem to be the only thing causing a commotion on its glassy territory. As I begin to rub the soap into my very tan, very smooth skin, I start praying in my head.

I always do this. Bathing in the ocean beats the heck out of paying the water bills, minimal as they are out here. And being as it's the calmest, most peaceful time of day, I always be sure and say at _least_ a few words to God as I wash.

Today I'm praying not for ample business in the restaurant, for that I already have; not for interest in my instrument, the blowafluto, for that God has already granted; not for a day of good weather, for that I can already see... No, today I am praying for a girl.

A girl with long pink curls, the fairest of skin, and the prettiest little smile you've ever seen in your life.

I had a dream about her last night, and it is without a doubt, by far the best dream that's ever graced my slumber.

I dreamt at first that I stood alone, out here on the sand, with my back to the village and my face to the water. I don't remember what I was thinking of, only that I was rested and at peace, without the slightest of worries on my face. See, I was looking at myself in this dream. I was reading my own thoughts while at the same time thinking of other things as well. I remember noticing a look of youth in my eyes that did not fit my twenty years.

And then suddenly, she was by my side, leaning against me as though it were the only natural thing in the world to do. I myself did not look at her, but I who was dreaming marvelled at her effortless beauty. I still do not believe she is only sixteen. Teenage girls are supposed to be flat-chested, frizzy-haired, chubby in the midsection, and self-conscious. But that Popuri Bennet... She's mature, physically, mentally, and spiritually. Her figure is not skinny per se, but nor is she pudgy in any way; she has meat on her bones, but I find that attractive. And I suppose it's her self-confidence that most attracts me. I've never, ever known her to be conceited in the six years I have known her, but I've also never seen a shy, intimidated, or low self-esteemed side of her.

To me, she is perfect.

I never see her hair all the way down, but in my dream, it was down, her loose pink curls lightly brushing against both of our faces in the velvety summer breeze. I don't remember what she was wearing, only that it was simple, not anything eye-catching, or else I would recall.

Nothing was said. Words have never been needed between the two of us. Usually, our eyes can show our thoughts better than our voices ever can.

I dreamt that she looked up at me (she is a good head shorter than I) and that I looked down at her, and I kissed her. A kiss is one thing that Popuri and me have yet to share. But I dreamt that we kissed; I could see myself kissing her, touching her face with my hand, making sure to be gentle because that's all gentlemen are ever to be.

And my eyes watered when I awoke because I so wanted the dream to be reality.

After rubbing the soap onto my hands, I transfer it to my hair, scrubbing, scrubbing, and finally dunking my head underneath the soft foam of the slow waves. My bath is finished, but my prayer is not.

I thank God for the things I have no room left to request and tell Him that there's only one thing I need now. I ask Him for Popuri Bennet and plead with Him to let me keep her as my only love. I make sure He knows I will never mistreat her or disregard her, that I will everyday kiss her and tell her I love her and even stay here in Mineral Town for the rest of my life just for her. I tell Him I will give her anything and everything she wants, to the very best of my ability, and that I would never leave her, not for anything.

"In Jesus' name. Amen."

**Karen's Point of View**

"I can do this," I tell myself, staring at the box of cakemix the countertop. "It's easy. Easy as...Cake! That's what I'm making: Cake. What are you making, Karen? Cake!" I take a bowl from the overhead cabinet, set it in front of me, and grab the box of instant cake mix, scanning the instructions quickly. "How hard can this be?" I ask myself. "Just add water, eh? How much water? One and a half cups! How much water, Karen? One and a half cups." Suddenly I'm singing to the tune of 100 Bottles of Beer on the Wall. "Cake is easy as cake to make, cake is easy as cake! Something, something, something, something, cake is easy as cake!..."

A voice from the neighboring room, the shop, calls my name. "Karen! Karen, you really, _really_ don't have to make something..."

"Nonsense, Daddy!" I tell him. "The farm boy needs a treat. Ann brought him something last weekend, and I can't have him thinking Ann is nicer than me."

"Oh, but, honey..." my father whines. "Let's not forget that Ann is a professional cook..."

My expression hardens as I pour in the water: one and a half cups.

"Did you read your list at least, Karen?" he asks me doubtingly.

_Oops!_ "Of course I did," I lie, carefully setting down the measuring cup I'd used to pour the water. My mother and I keep a checklist of things to do to help me when I'm cooking. Each time we learn something new, we add it to the list. Mom's idea. I don't think I really need it.

As of now, there are seven things on the checklist. I read over them carefully:

1.) Pay attention to the instructions

2.) Pay attention to what you're doing

3.) Use common sense

4.) Remember to be careful when handling electrical appliances and knives

5.) If the plug doesn't fit, just turn it around

6.) Don't forget to set the timer on the oven

7.) Don't ever use cranberry juice as a replacement for water/milk/vegetable oil

Sounds like we're good so far!

Once I've thoroughly stirred the strawberry flavored batter, poured it into the small round pan, and made sure the oven is finished preheating, I carefully place the cake-to-be on the oven tray and smile to myself as I set the time: thirty minutes. That gives me plenty of time to make and eat my lunch. Eleven-thirty is a little early, but I didn't have breakfast, so I'm hungry.

It doesn't take effort or skill to stick a bowl of leftover ravioli into the microwave, so this is what I do. As I sit down at the dining table to eat, I think about the boy I'm going to give this cake to.

His name is Jack Duritz. He came here at the start of last spring to run Farmer Redd's little ranch. It's a good ranch, at least it used to be. Mineral Town makes most of its money off it.

Anyways, about Jack. He's a cutie. He's three years older than me, but what does it matter? I like him. He's a Christian; he loves the Lord. And he's been places. He's from the United States, you know. I've always wanted to go there. . .I've heard its the land of greatest opportunity.

See, I want to be a professional dancer, maybe even a singer. Mom always tells me I can, if I can just find a way. She tells me that in show business, talent is necessary but connections are vital. And Mom would know. She was a dancer when she was young.

However, she'd sooner have me be a housewife. I mean, she'll support me whatever I do, but every time I mention my dreams, she says, "Remember, Karen: Show business is so fun that the time just flies right out the window, and suddenly you realize you're thirty-two years old without a family to call your own. You miss so much of life, Karen!"

But for me, dancing IS life. Mom's been teaching me things about it since I learned how to walk, and I've been exploring voice techniques since I spoke my first words.

Entranced in my thoughts, I am startled when the door of the master bedroom opens and closes, and my mother walks into the room. "Oh," she says, sniffing the air. "Karen, are you burning - um, baking something?"

"Oh, my gosh!" I gasp and look at the clock: It's been fifty-three minutes! "Oh, no!"

I hear Daddy moaning from outside.

This is NOT good.

I toss the oven door open, frantically reaching inside to grab the pan, only to burn my fingertips painfully. "_OOOWWW!_" I screech, my face twisted into an expression of unbearable pain. "Mom, take it out! Hurry! _OOOOWWWW!_"

"Oh, Karen!" Mom says, her voice half scolding, half sympathetic. She takes a couple of ovenmits from the counter cabinet and swiftly slides them onto her hands, rushedly pulling the cake out from the stove. "Now, look!" she says, setting the pan down on the countertop. "It's not that bad!"

I've gotten myself a large glass of ice cold water to stick my scalded fingers in. "Really?" I ask, peeking around her to look at it. It truly isn't totally ruined.

Just a little crispy.

"Look, I bet we can still eat it," she says, though her face is scrunched up like she really doesn't want to.

"Mom!"

"I'm serious!" she tells me. "Look here..." She reaches into one of the drawers for a butter knife to cut off a piece.

"Mom, no, it's not for us! It's for the new farm boy!"

"Well, a little missing piece won't hurt," she says firmly, cutting off a bite-size portion. I await her reaction as she pushes it slowly into her mouth. "It's um...it's... Karen, how much water did you put in it?"

I think for a second and remember the conversation I had with myself. "One and a half cups, just like the instructions said."

"Hmm." I can see that she's having a difficult time believing me. "Let me see that box."

I hand it to her somewhat reluctantly.

"Karen!" she says disbelievingly. "This says _one half of a cup!_"

"No!" I retort defensively, snatching the box from her hands. "It says - "

Oops.

I look up at my mother, who is standing before me with a haughty look on her face. Finally, she draws in a breath and states lowly, "Two more things to add to the list."

Nodding, I find a pen and write:

8.) Don't get distracted while the cake is in the oven

9.) Read fractions carefully

"Do you have anything else I can take to the farm boy?" I ask sheepishly.

She looks at me for a second and smiles in spite of the anger that she knows she should be expressing to me. "I made some Jell-O that we can put whipped cream on top of and add fresh fruit to."

[Still Karen's P.o.V.]

"Don't be a flirt, don't be a flirt, don't be a flirt..." I say repeatedly to myself as I walk down the brick path to Jack's farm. I realize that the second I start flirting is the same second word gets around the gossip circuit. See, at one o'clock, which is about this time, the village ladies gather at the square and chatter like old hens. Who just got Botox, who's using steroids, who cheated in poker at the Inn last night... A few of the multiple things typically discussed. I'm ashamed to say that my mother partakes on a daily basis.

There he is.

Apparently, he's just returned from mountain-searching with an armload of herbs, medicinal grasses, and wild fruit. Good, I think to myself. He probably needs a break.

"Jack!" I say, entering the farm.

He looks up from his large shipping bin and just gawks at me for a second or two. "Karen!" he says, standing upright. "Nice surprise!"

Oh, no! He doesn't want me here! _Just give him the Jell-O and leave,_ I tell myself. "I thought you might want some. . .Jell-O?" With fright that I can only hope isn't visible, I stretch out my arms to hand him the glass bowl filled with jiggly green goo, fresh kiwi, and scrumptious whipped cream.

"Wow, thanks!" he says, taking it. "This looks great!"

"Well, you're totally welcome," I tell him nervously. "I guess I'd better go..."

He looks at me. "Sure you don't want to stay for a while? I was just about to take a break."

I can't help but smile. "I'd like that, actually."

He smiles back at me. "Come on in."

_A/N: HA! I know it may seem incomplete, but it's only to benefit the story, I swear. I hope you review!_


	4. Chapter Three: Nothing Like a First Kiss

Chapter Three: Nothing Like a First Kiss

_A/N: Wow, it's been a while! Sorry! Been real busy with volleyball and cheerleading and most of all, **school**. Thanks to Red Sonic for his trusty reviews! :)_

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**Popuri's Point of View**

Mama's settling down for her afternoon nap. She's taken her medicine, eaten her lunch, drunk her health shake. Today is a good day for her. Ever since she woke up this morning, we haven't heard one complaint about the usual pain in her abdomin or chest, but she instead told us she was feeling well today. Fatigued, weak, but well.

A part of me knows I should be staying home with her, but most of me would like to escape the farm for an afternoon, go see Kai. It's been weeks since we spent a whole afternoon together. Plus, it's only thirty-six days until he leaves.

Thirty-six days...less than six weeks. How I hate this beastly summer countdown.

A modest red tankini is hidden beneath a pair of drawstring shorts and a small white cover-up top. After sliding into a pair of flip-flops, I creep out the front door, opening and closing it as quietly as possibly so as not to disturb Mama. Beach bag in tow, I skip carefully off the tiny porch in front of our home and begin the small journey to Kai's house. It's not a minute before I'm stopped.

"Popuri!"

I stomp my foot, halting. Rick. With a roll of my sky blue eyes, I whirl around to see him at the gate to the farm. Flashing him a pleading look and clutching nervous hands to my heart I say quietly, "Please, Rick? Please let me go? Please?"

It's his turn to roll his eyes. His chin wrinkled in worry, he runs a calloused hand through his thick mass of sunshine blond hair. "Why?" he inquires, his tone of voice evoking a feeling of guilt and depression.

"Because I want to go to the beach." I'm not going to lie. He would only figure it out anyway, and it's not like it's a bad reason.

"I think you'd better just stay here. I need to go the library this afternoon, and I don't want to leave Mama here all alone."

"The library? Yeah, right."

Rick glares at me through his big, nerdy glasses. "Yes," he spits, "the library. They just got a new book about...chicken...stuff."

"And you wanna go check it out?"

Gulp. "Yes."

"Whatever, Rick. You might go to the library, but only so you can 'accidentally' bump into 'your friend' Karen." I use my fingers for quotation marks. "Besides, you got to go out yesterday. It's my turn. C'mon, Rick, it's only fair. Don't be a hypocrite."

He opens his mouth to reply but all that comes out is air.

I grin. "Thank you!" After pecking his cheek with puckered lips, freshly coated with sparkly lip gloss, I adjust the strap on my beach bag and scamper off.

Today is really a pretty day. The sky is cloudless, blank except for the hot sun. Its heat bakes the village brown, including her inhabitants. I've never been one to tan, but its always fun to try. Sometimes Ann and I lay out at the farm or on the beach for an afternoon, but neither of us ever absorbs any darkness. Ann attains countless freckles, but I remain pale as snow.

I pass the Yodel Farm and wave to Barley, who stands in the yard helping a young calf to its trough. May is nowhere in sight. It's likely she's gone to Jack's farm for a visit.

Jack. Now he's a nice boy. I see Mama eyeing him when he stops by the Poultry Farm sometimes, and something tells me she's got something up her sleeve. Oh, Mama. She's probably thinking once summer is over and Kai is gone, I'll start to like him. That's just how her mind works.

Nothing's wrong with Jack, though. He seems like a really cool guy. I found out he's a Christian the other day, and that made me happy. I don't know why; it just did.

But see, I heard that Karen stopped by his farm the other day to give him a gift. I don't know what kind of gift, but a gift is a gift, right? Anyway, the town hens are spreading gossip like butter. Nobody knows for sure, but they say there's something going on between Jack and Karen. I don't know if I believe it, but it would really be ok with me. I don't want my brother hanging around Karen. It be good for her to be distracted from him by another guy. Poor Rick. If he only knew.

Speaking of the town hens, here they are now. I give them a wave and a smile as I pass them in the square, making a sharp right into the beach area. I still hear the whispering after I pass. "There she is again today," one of them observes.

"It's got to be that Kai Bailar again," another adds. "They're definitely doing some kind of mixing."

"Mixing? Popuri? No!" the other differs. "Her brother would never allow it."

"Speaking of Rick, he stopped by the supermarket yesterday asking about Karen..."

I laugh to myself as I step out onto the sand. Those ladies. What a hoot.

There he is.

My heart begins to beat in an unusual pattern, skipping, stopping, racing, booming, stopping, skipping, pounding, racing... It always does this when I'm around him. I reach up to touch my reeling head and realize I forgot to put my hair up.

That's not good. My hair is always up! Did I even brush it? Yes, I brushed it...

Did I curl it? No, but it's curly on its own today.

Do I have a hair dealie on my wrist? Dang it, no.

Looks like I'm stuck. Maybe it won't be so bad...it feels all right.

Oh, shove it, Popuri, I tell myself. Hair is not important. Kai likes me because of who I am. I think...

He's standing alone at the water's edge, the foam barely lapping at his toes. His loose-fit jeans are rolled up a little at the bottoms so they won't get wet. His button shirt hangs open around his chest, the breeze blowing his collar back. His normal purple bandana is not on his head, but in his left hand, which dangles from a beltloop. Facing the ocean, he cannot see me because I am a few yards behind him and to the right a few feet.

Is it unnatural, this obsession I have with him? Just his appearance causes a tightening of my stomach and an odd tickling sensation within it. I find myself short of breath, empty of any other thought but him, clutching my abnormally-paced heart with a quivering hand.

Leaving my flip-flops behind me, I step silently forward until I am beside him. As if it is the only reasonable thing I can do, I lean against him, still voiceless, wordless, nearly thoughtless. The left side of my head finds his right shoulder and my arm wraps around his stomach naturally. Despite the heat of the day, goosebumps rise on my skin when his hand reaches for my shoulder. I hug his waist but do not face him; my eyes are set on the waving sea.

He says nothing, and I do not answer him.

I feel at ease. My heart is not racing, my blood not rushing, my mind is calm. His body is like a warm blanket on a nippy autumn day, welcome, assuring, comforting, real. I press my nose to the fabric of his shirt and catch the thick scent of sea salt. The only fragrance worthy of such a man.

There is silence but for the call of surrounding seagulls.

Finally he turns to face me, his hands not releasing my body until his fingers reach up to touch my cheek. I feel him inhale slightly, and then close my eyes as he leans in to kiss me tenderly. Never before have I felt his lips on mine, nor anyone else's.

I have never felt a greater sensation.

His lips are gentle and soft on mine, tender, sweet, slow. I feel his hand barely touching my face and reach up with my own to touch his wrist, but it slides down to his shoulder, where I gently finger the wide collar of his shirt. His skin is warm, but welcome.

I hear a squeal from above and know the ladies have seen us, but it only causes our lips to curve into tiny smiles as we kiss, ever so slowly, ever so softly.

Finally we part, and I gaze into his deep eyes with tears rolling from my own. Down my face they stream, displaying my infinite happiness, my evergreen joy. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull myself closer to him, smiling through a constant trickle of tears. He wraps my waist in his arms and holds me close, cradling me softly, whispering in my ear, "You are so wonderful."

I sniffle. "Oh, Kai...you are the wonderful one."

**Jack's Point of View**

Rumor has it that Popuri Bennet was seen in mid-kiss with Kai Bailar on the beach yesterday afternoon. All three "Women in the Square" will tell you they saw it with their own eyes. On my jog this morning, I ran into Rick, and he was furious. I've never seen a man's face so red before.

I don't know why, but I can't stop thinking about it. Popuri...such a sweet, mature, young girl, kissing such a weird, foreign, summer visitor? I knew the two had a thing, but I didn't know they were serious. And what about all the clues? It seemed like maybe she liked me.

Guess not.

Well, I guess it doesn't really matter, because it looks like Karen the supermarket beauty has a little interest in me. The other day she stopped by the farm with some Jell-O and we talked for a little while. It was fun. She's a funny girl, cute, clever, intelligent, and downright _gorgeous._ I swear I thought I was going to pee my pants the whole time we were talking. A girl that pretty hasn't shown interest in me since high school when the varsity cheerleading captain stood me up at the homecoming dance.

Ah, it's probably time to get my mind off girls, at least until the day is done. I've still got half a field of crops to take care of, and nobody's showed up today to help me out. Sometimes Cliff from...actually, I don't know where the heck he's from...stops by to help me water the crops. We made a deal last spring. When the money from the sale comes in, he gets a share of it. He's helped out a lot, but I don't where he's at today. Great. I'm stuck with all this work all by me onesies.

I fill up my watering can as much as I can without it being too heavy to carry, 'cause it's pretty darn big, and start watering. About an hour later, I'm almost done, and I look up to see somebody coming in the gate.

Popuri Bennet.

And she's holding a plate with both of her hands. More food! Yay! The women in this village cook like machines! Yesterday, Manna from the winery brought me the best batch of brownies I ever did eat. Man, the people here sure are friendly, bringing me dessert after dessert day after day.

Ooh, but this one's not a dessert.

"Hey, Jack!" Popuri greets me, walking further into the field toward me. "My family and I thought you might like some fried chicken."

I step toward her so she won't have to walk as far. "Wow, Popuri, thanks! Is this one of...your own?"

She laugh musically. "Well, of course! Only the best!"

I laugh with her. There is a bit of an awkward pause in the conversation. I think about using it to tease her about locking lips with Foreign Boy but see no good coming of it. Instead I just look at her and imagine myself kissing her. I know just what I would do if I ever get the opportunity to do such a thing, and if that opportunity comes, I can't say I'd turn it away. I'm getting to know this Popuri, and I'm liking what I see. She's adorable, she's funny, she's brilliant, she's sweet, and she's fun to talk to. I'm already in love with her bright smile, her musical laugh, her baby blue eyes, her tender lips, and her delicate face.

We talk for a while. Finally she leaves with a smile and a small wave, and I'm left alone to continue working.

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_A/N: Yeah, I realize the ending was a little weird, but I liked this chapter for the most part. I know it was short, and I'm using the same excuse as always: I just wanted to get a chapter up. We made progress, though; you can rest assured that there was no pointlessness to this one. And yeah, the title of the chapter is from 50 First Dates. Don't you love that movie? Okay, yes, well, leave a review, please. I really would like to hear what you have to say about my fic._


	5. Chapter Four: Dancing in the Sand

Chapter 4: Dancing in the Sand

_A/N: Ok, here goes. I can't believe it's been so long since I updated this! If you like this, show some interest…I enjoy writing it, so I want to keep at it. I'd appreciate your reviews!_

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**Karen's Point of View**

"Jeffrey, I can't stand this anymore!"

"Sasha, I'm sorry, but what was I supposed to say?"

"You were supposed to say, 'Sorry, Duke, but we just can't afford to keep tabs anymore!'"

"But you let Anna run up her tab all the time!"

"Because she always pays it back by the end of the week!"

I hear the raised voices before I even enter the shop from the kitchen in back, and resist the urge to yell at them to _shut up._ It seems every day it's the same fight. If it's such a problem, why don't we just get rid of the tab system? Or we can just put a limit on it; make a little sign to set on the checkout desk that says, "Your tab may not exceed 100G." That would solve everything!

Walking quickly through the shop, I consider whirling around to spit something smart-alecky as I open the door. _No…_ I tell myself, knowing it wouldn't work. I guess my parents just enjoy fighting, and if that's the way their marriage works, then who am I to interfere? Well, I'm their daughter, but I guess that means nothing in this case.

It's a bright summer morning outside, and my spirits are lifted the second the beautiful warm breeze caresses my face, slowly sweeping my long, freshly straightened brown hair back behind my left shoulder. Gazing up at the baby blue sky, I spot several friendly white clouds and know they won't be a threat to the day's sunny mood.

What to do today? I didn't really have plans when I walked out the door, and didn't dress for anything in particular. I consider heading down to the mountain, or maybe just the Goddess Pond. It is really pretty down there on such a bright day… Oh, but it just takes too long to get there. Of course, I could cut across Jack's farm, but I know the "Women in the Square" have already been talking about my little Jell-O trip.

Jack was so sweet that day. He really is a nice boy. I wonder how long he will stay here. Hopefully it will be a permanent situation… I think I've got a little crush on him. He's so gentlemanly, funny, charming, cute, witty, and just plain good-looking… I haven't seen a boy like him since…

Well, actually, Kai Bailar is a lot like him. He's got that weak-at-the-knees charm that drives the girls wild and infuriates the men. And, might I mention, he is drop-dead gorgeous. I've never seen a man so beautiful. He radiates confidence and just…makes you like him at first glance.

That's where I'll go. The beach restaurant. I didn't have breakfast, so I'm hungry enough, and I've only stopped by two or three times this summer. Maybe Popuri will be down there. She's a fun girl, cute, funny, smart… I like her. The word is that she was seen kissing Kai on the beach the other day. My mother swears it on her own eyes. Still, I don't know if I fully believe it. I guess it's perfectly fitting, seeing as the two have been practically head over heels for each other since they met all those summers ago.

As I begin walking, my slightly dirtied pink flip-flops slapping the brick street beneath me with every step, I ponder the possibilities of their relationship, leaving the empty chasm that is my own love life to rot in the back of my mind.

What will they do at summer's end? Will Kai leave, as he does each year? It's so sad to see Popuri all through autumn, looking so sad and empty. That brilliant smile almost just disappears for an entire season. I remember just looking into her eyes last year, feeling sorrier for her than I'd ever felt for anyone before.

I pass the church and turn right, in sight of Rose Square now.

I wonder what Popuri's mother thinks about this summer romance. I've seen her eyeing Jack…my Jack…like she would much rather have him for her beautiful daughter. Honestly, I would too if I was Lillia. I mean, Jack…he's grounded. He's got a permanent life now on that farm. Lillia knows for sure her daughter would be happy with him. She observes Jack's life and can easily envision her daughter's fitting perfectly in.

I can't say that about myself. If I were with Jack, I know I'd be here forever. 'Til the day of my death, I'd be living in Mineral Town as Farmer Jack's wife.

But still…If I ever come to the point where I can confidently say I'm in love with Jack Duritz…Nothing else will matter. I'm sure of it. For the man I love, I know I'll give up anything.

Sighing, I realize all I need now is a man to love.

I descend the sand-coated cement stairs that lead down to a spacious beach. Scampering seagulls litter the low tide, and a thick line of seaweed rests against the sea wall. The familiar salty scent of the ocean overwhelms my senses, and I breathe it in welcomingly. The beach has always been my true home. Not in a weird way, though. I mean, I'm not going to say the seagulls are my friends or anything, but here on the beach, it's like nothing else matters. Just staring out at the open ocean, you get this wonderful feeling.

It's like you truly know yourself out here. It's like you can just look out at the calm sea waves and see your life laid out before you. This is the best place to come when you have a decision to make, an important one, or when there's something you just can't understand.

I come here a lot after my parents have a big fight. Not like the one today…much bigger. Sometimes, it gets so bad I'm sure they will start slapping each other. It scares me to death. Occasionally, the screaming gets too loud to just sit there in the kitchen or just lie there in my room, so I sneak out my bedroom window and run away here. Sometimes I'm fuming and sometimes I'm crying. Sometimes I just run out into the waves in my nightclothes, burying myself momentarily beneath the surface of the water.

Then, I get up, of course. I often sit on the sand, but sometimes I leg out to the edge of the dock and sit on the wood, feet dangling toward the water. Sometimes it's an hour, sometimes it's three, before I finally get up and head back home. I climb back in my window, sometimes soaking wet, write in my journal, which I've kept faithfully for three years now, sometimes jot down a song which I'll edit and change the next day, and crawl into bed. It's then that I'm at peace.

I remove my flip-flops before crossing the sand to get to the restaurant. The sand is still wet from the high tide, so my feet sink slightly with each step, leaving defined footprints all behind me. Stepping onto the small wooden deck in front of the beach house, I drop my shoes on the welcome mat and rap my knuckles on the white screen door.

Before the reply comes, I look at the house before me. It's white with a turquoise-ish trim, very nautical. The windows have cute little sea green shutters, and the door behind the screen is the same bright color. I know Kai has plans to paint the roof, or get new shingles, because it's still a dull blackish brown.

After only a few seconds, a masculine voice is heard from inside. "Come on in," it says in a friendly tone.

I fiddle with the handle on the screen door for several seconds before finally getting it to open, then turn the brass knob of the real wooden door before me and push, letting the screen door slap shut behind me as I enter the restaurant.

The interior design is very much the same as the exterior: nautical. The floors are hardwood, and the walls are decorated with a bluish green wallpaper with a sand dollar pattern. A large fishing net hangs just below the ceiling, and I spot several red and white lifesaver rings hanging in various spots on the walls. There's a counter in the back left corner, and Kai appears behind it from a small, western-style swinging door on the back wall. "Hey, there, Karen!" he greets me warmly. "Haven't seen you around here in a couple weeks; how ya been?"

"I've been really good, Kai," I answer with a smile, walking toward the bar until I can rest my elbows on it. "And you?"

He fiddles with the cash register a little before looking up and making eye contact. He grins big and says, "Best I've ever been," with more confidence than ever.

"I'm so glad," I tell him genuinely, and he returns the sentiment with a smile. "So you're open, right?"

"Well, sure, what do you want?"

"Well, whatcha got?"

"Lots of food, but not a whole lot of it is for breakfast. I've got a pizza in the oven and some hot dogs I can put on the grill." He stands on tip-toe to peek over the swinging door. "I've got crab, lobster, shrimp, and fish I can cook up, but it might take a while, or I can make you a tuna sandwich."

"Ooh…" I suddenly realize I don't have any money, and what I want sure as heck doesn't come free. "Hey, Kai, do you keep tabs?"

"On occasion," he says. "What for? You forget your money?"

"Yeah, but if it's too big a deal, than it doesn't matter."

"Well, yeah, I can write you down. What do you want?"

I smile. "Some crab. Some crab with steamed vegetables."

"Ooh, girl, you are makin' my mouth water." Kai grins. "I can fix you that, but it'll probably be near an hour. It's a one-man restaurant, you know."

"It's no problem, Kai." I look around the empty restaurant as he disappears behind the swing-doors into the back kitchen. "Say, is Popuri gonna be around here today?"

He's suddenly back in a flash. "She should be. It depends on the kind of day her mother's having. Some days she doesn't show 'til maybe four, and some days not at all." There's an unusual twinkle in his eye, and I get the feeling that he just told a little fib. I get the feeling that on those days Popuri "doesn't show," she's actually coming around at night. Kai knows I've caught his eye-twinkle and smiles real big. I smile back. "But most days she tries to come in the morning and stay all day."

"So things are pretty serious, huh?" I ask.

"You could say that, definitely," Kai says. "I don't know, I've never really heard of a relationship like ours. It's not really anything official, you know?"

I cock my head to the side a little and squint one of my eyes in a confused expression.

"Well, I guess I worded that wrong," he explains. His eyes dart between me and the kitchen, and he says, "Let me get your crab set." He disappears into the back room momentarily. In less than four minutes, he's back with a small wooden cutting board under his right arm, various vegetables in his hands, and the handle of a mid-sized knife secured between his teeth. As he sets the stuff down on the counter and begins to work, he continues. "It's official…I mean, we're together. But it's not like…it's not like most people's boyfriend-girlfriend deal. I'd call it more serious. It's like we both know for sure we wanna be with each other, know what I'm saying?"

I nod.

"I mean, we're not experimenting, I guess you would say." He handles the knife expertly as he chops a stubborn yellow squash into pretty little slices. "What about you, Karen?"

I am so occupied with his explanation that his question startles me. "Hm?"

He smiles, looking up from his chop-work. "Any guys?"

I roll my head from side to side a little, indicating my tiredness of the subject. "I don't really know anymore. My love life's kind of on the backburner."

"Really?" Kai looks surprised. "I figured you'd be more the type to constantly be dating."

I grin and entertain the thought in my mind. "I guess I would be, anywhere else. There's just a limited supply of guys here, you know?"

"Oh, I know," he says. "There's a limited supply of everything here."

I've forgotten all the parts of the world he's seen. "Kai…"

"Hm?"

"What's gonna happen at the end of the summer?"

He whisks off into the kitchen again and answers loud so I can hear him. "I've been thinking about that a lot, you know."

"Any decisions yet?" I ask him, raising my voice so it's audible to him. My hand finds a stool nearby, and I pull it up to the bar so I can sit. "Have you talked to Popuri about it?"

I hear the clanging of various cooking tools mixed with Kai's voice. "Kind of, and no. The topic's never really been brought up between us, and I don't intend for it to…until I've made up my mind."

"You should see how she gets every year after you leave, Kai." My voice lowers as he reappears behind the counter. "That pretty little smile just fades away for months…It's hard for anybody to have a good time because she gets so low. Her life is pretty much centered on you, Kai."

He sighs. "And mine is on hers."

I give him a doubting look. "Don't leave her then."

"No!" Kai stands erect in defiance. "No, no! I'm simply debating between taking her with me and staying here with her."

"Shouldn't that also be her decision? Her parents'?" I fiddle with a sugar package until it spills out over the countertop. Playing with it with my fingertips, I look back up at Kai, his eyes painfully closed. I can see he's frustrated and downright flustered. The man's got a choice to make, and not an easy one. "It'll be all right, Kai. Don't worry."

"I don't know how to not worry," he says, a hand on his hip and the other leaning against his side of the bar. "There's only like…a few weeks 'til summer's end. I don't know how to make a living here…"

"The restaurant!"

"It doesn't make that much money…It makes enough to get by, but not enough to live on."

"What do you mean? It does fine in the summer, doesn't it?"

"Yeah…yeah," Kai mumbles, looking at the floor. "I just get scared without the blowafluto cash from the rest of the year."

"Are you going to marry her?"

Such a question I thought would scare him, but he only looks up into my eyes with confidence. "That's the plan."

"When?"

"I want to propose by summer's end."

"You can't leave after that."

"Why?"

"Why? You just can't! Popuri will be lost without you, and scared you won't come back, and…"

"Okay…So you think I should stay."

"Yeah. Especially if you propose. But you wanna make sure you won't feel like a big bird in a little cage." I pause and sigh a little. "Like me."

The expression on his face reminds me of a small puppy. "That's not a problem. I love this town. The rest of the world pales in comparison to it, just because…"

"Just because she's here," I finish for him. It's just so sweet…I can feel my teeth rotting.

"I've been leaning toward staying," he says, staring down at his fingernails. "Then I think about money, and it scares me. Then I think about Rick, and it scares me even worse."

I roll my eyes. "Rick won't be a problem as long as you stay," I tell him. "Sure, he'll be upset at first, just because he doesn't like you, but if you don't leave, he'll be fine. He just doesn't wanna see his kid sister being swept away by some…"

"Charming foreign guy," Kai finishes with a good-natured laugh.

"Plus…nobody wants to lose Popuri. We love her, you know?"

"Yeah, I know." Kai's fingers mess with the back of his purple bandana. "I know. So I guess I'm set…Thanks, Karen."

I smile. "So you're staying?"

"That's how things are lookin'!" he says, throwing his arms in the air with a little laugh. "Anything for Popuri."

As if on cue, we hear the whoosh of the screen door opening and look behind us to see the pink-haired sixteen-year-old entering the restaurant. Dressed in adorable pink Bermuda shorts, a casual white cap-sleeved, collared shirt, and flowery flip-flops, Popuri looks absolutely darling, her trademark pink hair pulled back into a curly ponytail, parted daintily on the side.

Kai immediately begins walking out from behind the counter. "Well, speak of the devil," he says playfully, opening his arms so she can walk into them.

"Oh, no!" she says cutely, with a smile, her voice muffled as she is enveloped by Kai. "Were you guys talking about me?" She looks in my direction with a huge smile. "Hi, Karen!" Leaving Kai's arms, she walks over to give me a friendly hug.

"Hey, Popuri!" I say in return. "You look so cute!"

"Aw, thanks, so do you," she says, looking over my outfit.

I smile and bobble a bit side to side. "Thanks," I say, looking down at my own clothes. I've been really excited about my new casual beach skirt, made from unique pale green fabric, which sways about my knees. I'm also wearing a soft pink cap-sleeved tee, and would be wearing matching flip-flops had I not left them outside.

"Were you guys really talking about me?" Popuri asks, setting her beach bag down on the bar-top.

Kai has gone back behind the counter. "Well, what else would we talk about?" he says playfully.

Popuri shoots him a mock-angry glare, smiling afterward.

"So how's your mom?" I ask her, somewhat reluctantly. Mama tells me Lillia rarely joins the square ladies anymore…not like she used to. I personally think much of her illness is due to the absence of her well-meaning husband. I also get the feeling Popuri would feel the same way if Kai was to leave.

"She feels good today," Popuri smiles. "She has a lot more good days in the summertime, when it's warm. But…she still doesn't go out a lot. Rick and I run most of the errands…Well, Rick especially, 'cause I'm here most of the time." Pulling up a stool, she looks to Kai and smiles.

"Well, I'm glad to hear she's doing better," I say, still fingering the mess of sugar I've spilled on the countertop. Turning my gaze in Kai's direction, I ask him, "How's my crab doing?"

"Ooh, crab!" Popuri coos. "That sounds really good! Kai, could you cook me a crab, too?"

"I'm on top of it," Kai says proudly, holding his fingers in the shape of a checkmark and pointing it into the air triumphantly. "Yours is in the bucket with Karen's." He turns to peek over the top of the swing-doors and nods. "They're looking good."

"Is there anything we can do?" Popuri asks.

"Nah," Kai shrugs. "You can go hang around outside if you want; the crabs will take a while. It's a real pretty day! I can meet y'all out there in a few minutes."

"Hmm, sounds great," Popuri smiles, looking at me. "Sound good, Karen?"

"Yeah, for sure!" is my cheery response, so she playfully links arms with me and we scurry girlishly out the door. She leaves her flip-flops on the porch as we scamper out onto the sand in bare feet. "You guys are too cute," I tell her, referring to her and Kai.

"Aw, thanks," Popuri says bashfully as we walk together on the shoreline, the waves softly licking our feet as they shrink into the sand. "It feels like the real thing."

"I'm happy for you two…you'll be happy together," I answer, swinging my arms back and forth a little, enjoying the salty breeze and inhaling the fresh air.

"Thanks." Popuri smiles.

"Ladies!" we hear a male's voice call from not too far behind us. Both of us turn around to see Jack Duritz jogging toward us in hibiscus flower-print board shorts and a tee shirt, sandals left behind him on the sand as his bare feet sink slightly in the sand as he approaches us.

_Hmm,_ I think to myself, unable to restrain an uncalled-for outburst of butterflies in the pit of my stomach. _He's looking…pretty good…pretty darn good. Except the hat. What's with the hat? Well, I guess it's kinda cute. Okay, yeah, it's cute. Really cute…Whoa, Karen, okay: focus._ "Jack!" I call out. "Hey!"

"Hey," he answers, panting just a little as he finally reaches us.

"How are you?" Popuri asks politely.

"Pretty good…just taking a break from work for an afternoon." He smiles.

"It's still morning," I laugh.

He puts his pointer finger up to his lips. "Shh," he whispers.

We giggle. "So how's the farm?" Popuri inquires.

"It's doing much better…Finally got the field clear a few days ago, so now I can focus on the actual garden, and some animals, too." He looks at both of us. "How are you guys today?"

"Doing okay," Popuri answers.

Jack looks at me inquisitively.

"Okay," I reply, flattered that he took an extra few seconds to hear what I had to say instead of just settling for Popuri's answer. _Okay, maybe I'm reading a little too much into light conversation._

"I wonder what's taking Kai so long," Popuri says, a little too quizzically. We've only been apart from him for like, two minutes.

What's she got up her sleeve? _Oh, my gosh, she wants to leave me and Jack alone. Ah, now there's a real friend,_ I laugh within myself.

"I'm gonna go check on him," Popuri says, sneaking a wink at me. Thank God Jack doesn't see it. With that, Popuri scurries off across the sand and back into the beach house.

"So," Jack says, initiating a conversation. "You wanna walk, or should we wait for the lovebirds?"

"Oh, no telling how long they'll take," I say. "Walk?"

"Sure."

So we begin a very slow, very mellow walk along the waterline, enjoying the peace of the sea. "So, Jack," I say after a few seconds of silence. "You're from Texas?"

"I am, I am," he answers without hesitating. "How 'bout you? You been living here your whole life?"

Slightly embarrassed, I nod. "Never really known anything else. So do you like it here so far?"

"Yeah, I do," he says, his eyes drifting between me, the water, the sand, and the air ahead of him. "Very peaceful…very fun. It's the life every guy like me wants."

"What life's that?"

"You know…grounded, rooted, kind of old-school. Living life the natural way. Where parents spank their kids and wash their mouths out with soap, where you find a girl and marry her instead of sporadically dating, where you can take a sick day off work without actually being sick…where you're your own boss, living off the land. It's nice. It's…beautiful."

Now I'm awestruck. This man is amazing. "Poetic," I comment with a smile. "You're pretty witty, aren't you?"

He laughs lightly. "That's what people say." After a very brief silence, he continues, "I hear you're into music."

I nod, enjoying the attention he's giving me, secretly hoping Kai and Popuri don't meet us any time soon. "_Love_ music."

"Do you write?"

"Yeah, but it's not that great. I basically just write when I'm at a kind of…emotional high. When I'm really happy, or really sad, or really angry, or really frustrated, or really…embarrassed. I can never just sit down and write, it's gotta be inspired. But I'm a little bit of a drama queen, I guess, and I've always been one to overanalyze things, so inspiration comes pretty easy." _Ok, now that I've rambled for three years…_

"Well, do you sing?"

"I try…I mean, I don't have a voice coach or anything, but…"

"Could you sing me something?"

"Oh, I don't know, I'm really not very good, and…"

"Come on." His eyes are _really_ pretty. "Sing me something…something you wrote?"

_Should I? This is kind of embarrassing and flattering at the same time…Which one would I sing him? Most of them are sad…Almost all of them are sad! _"I don't know, Jack…"

"Why?"

I look at him with a disbelieving smile. "Because, it's embarrassing!"

"Come on, I won't make fun of you."

"I know, but…"

"Just sing one!"

"Okay!" I smile and don't know how I'm going to do this. _I'll pick the one with the least amount of high notes…I'm not at a karaoke bar…I'm just singing to a friend…I'll do "I'll Wait for Him." That's the one I'll do. _It's a slow one. I just wrote it last night. So I stop walking, stand still, straighten up, open my mouth, clear my throat, release my voice, and sing:

"_Yes, I'll wait for him,_

_and I'll wait for his voice,_

_I'll wait for his touch,_

_and he'll wait for my choice,_

_I'll wait for his love,_

_I'll wait for his heart,_

_I'll wait for only him,_

_and while we're apart,_

_I'll wish him only well,_

_and I'll continue waiting,_

_how long, only time will tell…"_

"Wow," Jack says.

"No, that's just the chorus, and it's really corny, I know…"

"I thought it was really pretty."

"Thank you," I reply.

"Who was it written for?" he asks me, and I'm a little surprised. He notices my expression, one of temporary alarm, and quickly apologizes. "I mean, you don't have to tell me or anything…I mean, I don't know why I asked…Um…Yeah, so…"

I laugh. _Is he nervous? He's stuttering! That's so cute!_ I'm still feeling a little embarrassed from singing in front of him, and even more embarrassed to admit to myself that the song was written for him, last night, alone in my room, as I pondered the possibilities. But I wasn't going to tell him that! "It's okay," I assure him, and I can see his disposition lighten slightly in relief. "I mean, I'm not going to tell you or anything, but it's okay." I smile and try to make it look mischievous, mysterious.

He smiles back at me with a peculiar little winkle-twinkle in his pretty brown eyes. _He's cute…I like his smile. _He stops for a second and bends down to pick up something from the sand. It's a tiny little conch shell, white with purple streaks wiped all over it. Like a little boy, Jack holds the little keepsake up to his ear and murmurs, "I can hear the ocean!"

I giggle. "You're weird," I tell him, laughter intermixed in my teasing words.

"Hmph!" he grunts jokingly. "Try to make a lady laugh…"

Gathering my long, straight brown hair into one hand and pulling it behind my right shoulder, opposite Jack and following the direction of the breeze, I laugh aloud at Jack's quirky humor. "You're funny, though," I say, uprooting a burrowing clam with my toe before continuing to walk by Jack's side.

Jack lifts up his foot for a second to peel a strand of seaweed off the bottom of his toes, then steps back into stride with me. "So what else do you do, Karen?"

I look at him. "Well, I dance."

He smiles. "I've heard you're really good."

Trying not to blush, I smile and look away. "Still learning…my mom used to dance for a living, so she's teaching me."

"So are you gonna move away from here one day and go be a dancer?" he asks, his hands digging into his pockets.

With my hand I flick away a strand of blond hair from my eyes and then answer, "I don't know. Maybe. If I do, it'll probably be real spontaneous and random." I laugh a little.

"Oh, so you like living life on the edge, huh?" Jack asks, a little tease in his voice.

"Well, maybe not the edge," I say, a smile on my face. "I wouldn't call myself adventurous, but I do like to be…spur-of-the-moment. Almost everything I do is unplanned, uncalculated, unscripted. Kinda impromptu, I guess you would say."

"But still inspired," he says, almost romantically. The look on his face is wistful and dreamy. I realize my expression matches.

"Yeah," I murmur softly. "Still inspired."

"So what kind of dancing do you do?" Jack asks curiously.

I grin. "Everything!" I cry with more confidence than I'd expected to come from my mouth.

"Do you do like, partner stuff?"

"Hmm, yeah." I pull my shirt down nervously, anticipating a dance invitation.

"Well, um…would you wanna show me, maybe, a little something?" His question is a bit shakier than a prince charming would have said it, but still charming nonetheless.

"Okay." I stop walking, and he stops, too. "What do you want to see?" I can't contain a small giggle.

"Something easy," he says humbly, with a small sigh. "Can't say I'm a real good dancer, but I try…My manly charm's usually enough to satisfy the lady."

I laugh loudly, as is my custom. I don't know how my laugh ever got so loud, but it's loud and many times obnoxious. Always, I try to contain it, but some people just…make me laugh.

"I like your laugh," Jack says, adding a little laugh of his own.

"It's so loud!" I say, covering my mouth, embarrassed. "You don't have to say you like it."

"No, it's okay, I have a loud laugh, too." He takes my hand and assumes the dancing position gracefully.

I blush furiously, feeling the butterflies again.

"Okay, show me something," he insists.

"Okay, okay," I say. "Let's see…How about the salsa?"

"Sounds fun, but probably requires a lot of footwork, am I right?"

"Oh, it's not that bad, just do it." So I show him the basic works, telling him, "Step here, now here, and then back and front and here and here…" and so on. He picks up the fundamentals like cake but can't get the technique just right, so of course, I tease him. "Jack, you're a little stiff," I tell him, still keeping time with the imaginary beat and kicking his foot in the right direction when I need to.

He snorts a little. "What do you want from me?" he says with a big laugh.

"Oh, that is a loud laugh," I joke.

He looks at me with a "har, har, very funny," sarcastic expression and says, "Shut up," in such a deadpan way that I can't contain a bubbly burst of laughter.

I feel his bare toenails scratch across my ankle as he makes a wrong move and shriek, "Ooh! Jack!" somewhere beneath bubbles of laughter.

"I'm sorry, your obnoxiously loud laugh is distracting me!" he kids loudly.

This only makes me laugh louder and harder. "Oh, my gosh!" I gasp.

Our dancing is now a mess of stepping around each others' mistaken feet in the oddly strewn sand. That is, until Jack finally makes the mother of all mistakes and sends us both sprawling out on the sand.

Of course, my very first reaction is to scream out loud, and my very second is to grasp my skirt tightly and secure it below my panties. Then, of course, the laughter returns, and we just lie there giggling like little kids at recess.

_Jack Duritz,_ I think to myself as I lie there laughing. _Mrs. Jack Duritz…Mrs. Karen Duritz…_

XXXXX

_A/N: This has been my absolute FAVORITE chapter to write so far. Oh, my. It was fun. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. The laughing part was inspired by my own trademark, obnoxious, annoyingly loud laugh. My entire class hates me for it. ) Review!_


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